


Night Talks

by andrasteshaircurlers



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Afterlife, Angst, Calling, F/M, Gen, Grief, King Alistair, Loss, Love, Other, POV Alistair, Stream of Consciousness, Tearjerker, The Calling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 15:54:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1988898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrasteshaircurlers/pseuds/andrasteshaircurlers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every evening before he goes to bed he talks to her...</p><p>Pre Inquisition it was thought most likely that Alistair would never have a calling (due to his mother) and the warden would. I had to write this.</p><p>Companion piece to "Her Last Battle"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Talks

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Her Last Battle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2177229) by [andrasteshaircurlers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrasteshaircurlers/pseuds/andrasteshaircurlers). 



    The night after she goes to her calling he looks out his window before bed and he talks to her. The moonlight shining on the tears that streak his face. He tells her he misses her. That he is not sure how to do this rulership thing without her. That his bed feels empty and cold without her beside him. That his heart feels empty and cold knowing that she is gone. That he can't do this. And then he just sobs in the darkness without **her** to hold him.

 

    A few days later he talks to **her** about her funeral. How he barley managed to make it though his speech. Eamon wrote him one but when it came down to it he just spoke from the heart. He cried in front of everyone. If a strong king is not supposed to cry he does not want to be a strong king. Besides he was not the only one crying that day.

 

    A few years pass. Every evening before he goes to bed he talks to **her**. He tells her about the laws he's made. About the ridiculous noble woman who try to show off their daughters in front of him. How he can't believe he has not screwed the country up yet. How he has noticed his first few grey hairs. He expects his calling will come soon.

 

    A few more years. He stares up at the moon and stars. He's grown a beard. His hair is starting to recede Does she know he can still picture her laughing face? Every time someone bests him in combat he has flashbacks to **her**. The new generation did not even know the blight. He wonders what she would think about this new treaty. The servants asked him if he wants a single bed. He said no. His calling must be coming any day now.

 

    A few more years. His hair is graying. He had pain in his back yesterday. The healers tell him it's normal not a sign of old age. He knows better. He's not as quick as he used to be. He never considered the possibility of old age. He always thought to die by **her**. The advisers are begging him to marry. He can't bring himself to do it. Where is his calling?

 

   A few more years. He's done it. He's married. Maker forgive him. He can't let Ferelden have a civil war. A foreign princess. She's pregnant. There will be an heir. And maker forgive him once again, while bedding her in the new bed he got all he could think of was **her**. Don't worry the princess is not half as good. And maker the look she gave him when she found out he sometimes raided the larder for cheese! Why has he not had his calling?

 

    A few more. The old man gazes out the window. He caught his wife cheating. He was happy. It's been killing him this farce. It's aged him as well. He won't even be able to fight darkspawn if he has his calling. He ennobled his wife's lover. That way she can marry him when he is gone. She can be happy. He wishes her luck. Strangely their son reminds him more of **her** then his wife. He has the same cockiness, the same temper... but the same gift with words. He'll be a good King. Better then his father

 

   A few more. Alistair Theirin lies in the bed he once shared with his first wife. He's dying. Every breath is an effort. He sent his wife and son away. When the fever takes and he starts displaying a brilliant smile the healers have never seen and talking in his delirium to his first queen the healers think they know why. Around midnight his fever breaks and he comes to himself. Enough to realize that his visions of **her** were just a dream. Never have the healers seen such a broken man. Around dawn the king draws his last breath.

 

    Alistair Theirin finds himself in a grassy meadow next to a pond He feels young and strong again. His hair is full and colored. A quick look at his reflection in the pool reveals this, along with a face unlined by age. But the eyes are still sad, Suddenly the world freezes. There is another figure behind him in the pool's reflection. He turns around desperately willing her to still be there only to find himself shoved unceremoniously into the water.

    “That's for making me wait so long!” Her voice rings out. He's never heard a more beautiful sound.

    As he comes up again he holds out his hands palms out “About the wife...” She brushes past the defensive gesture and presses her lip against his. And then he is kissing her like he wanted to all these past years. He wraps his arms around her and twirls her around. She lets out that little squeak he adores and thought to never hear again. When they come up for air she just looks at him. “I understand.” He wraps an arm around her shoulders and she snuggles against him

    “So this is the maker's side?” he asks.

    “It seems so yes.” she is gazing at him happily.

    He gestures to the weapons strapped onto her “and there are still bad things to kill here?”

    She grins “I don't know I've been waiting for you.”

    He turns to face her, hands on her waist. “Well then we better get started.” And finally, the hero of Ferelden and her husband walk off to adventure together once again, while back in Thedas the kingdom mourns the good king's passing never suspecting he is happier than he ever was while on the throne.


End file.
